


Bleat Twice for Yes

by Wrenalynn



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Cursed Jaskier | Dandelion, Excessive Alcohol Consumption, F/M, M/M, No beta we die like Jaskier wont, Soulmate AU, Unreliable Narrator, and Ciri is around, goat based shenanigans, more tags to be added as we gooooo, use of alcohol to ignore problems, what POV is this in? we don't know, whoops added Aiden
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenalynn/pseuds/Wrenalynn
Summary: Jaskier had always known he had a Witcher for a soulmate... It's just that he always assumed it was the one he'd spent the better part of his life chasing after and singing songs for.Twenty years, and a broken heart, later and he still believed as much. Nothing was more heartbreaking than being completely and utterly rejected by one's soulmate.Enter one thoroughly put out hedgewitch, sick of Jaskier's moping and drinking, to set him on the right path to properly meet who he was always destined for.Now the main problem is... how will he even talk to them once he finds them?!
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 90





	1. You did not think...

**Author's Note:**

> AaaAaah!   
> I finally write another multi-chapter fic.
> 
> CW for the first chapter, and the next, for alcohol abuse as a poor poor means of handling grief.

Jaskier sat on a sun-warmed rock overlooking the ocean and rubbed at his upper arm, right before it met the inside of his elbow. 

Just below where his fingers twitched sat the mark that had been plaguing him for the last twenty years. It was small, as most soulmarks were, and only became clear upon close inspection. It was round, grey, and matched exactly to the medallion that graced the glorious neck of his… well, his former companion. Ex-best friend. Former love of his life, he supposed. 

There was nothing for it. He’d been emotionally chucked off a mountain and if he had never had the courage to tell Geralt of his soulmark before, he certainly didn’t have it now. He sighed deeply and considered his options, heaving himself up off his rock and beginning his sullen trek towards the cliffside town. 

Oxenfurt held some promise. He could likely talk his way into a guest lecturer post and a closet in the dormitories. He’d be bored, but he would be warm and fed. The city had also the possibility of decent physical distraction from his woes.

There was also the possibility of wandering his sorry self back off to Lettenhove, but that idea gave him hives before he’d even started the process of a mental pros or cons list. His family wasn’t likely to be happy with his sudden reappearance and he was even less suited to trying to meld back into the formal lifestyle than he was to being a sedentary professorial type.

No, the best option was still out there. He just needed to find it. Something would come along and rekindle the flames of adventure in his heart and he would pick himself up and take off again into the wild blue yonder. 

In the meantime though, he wasn’t adverse to drinking away his woes. 

It was with this mindset that he found himself in the tavern of said cliffside town, enjoying a particularly nice bottle of vodka and being eyed suggestively by the local… hedge witch? Healer? Mage? She gave off a mildly magical aura but Jaskier was too deep into his cups to truly think too hard on it. She smiled at him and he was more than ready to smother his heartache in her lovely bosom. 

Her name was Hanna, and she was most assuredly a witch. Her small house was littered with interesting herbs, potions, and smelled rather spicy. Her bed, however, was absolutely ordinary and quite comfortable to fall backwards into. Repeatedly. 

Jaskier decided he was quite content for the moment, attempting to consider his life path between drunken impromptu performances at the local tavern and rambunctious trips to Hanna’s bedroom. 

Hanna was not so certain.

“Jaskier..” She started, slowly as if talking to someone delicate standing on the edge of a bridge, “...It’s been about a month now…”

Jaskier finished off the wine he was currently drinking and squinted at her over the rim. Was this the relationship talk? His lute looked so happy perched safely in the corner. He hated to think he’d need to pop up, take off, and find a new hole to hide in. 

“Is that so? You know, my dear, I had quite let the thought of time slip my mind. It’s been so lovely spending the evenings like this. I’m loath to let anything slip in and muck it up, much less something as petty as time.”

Hanna smiled, though it came across as more of a grimace. 

“Yes… You certainly have been keen on ignoring all around you in the pursuit of pleasure and empty minded drunkenness…”

It was Jaskier’s turn to grimace. “My dear, that’s a bit harsh…”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “But it’s true. I’m not trying to have a serious talk with you. I simply notice your mooning about and recognize it for what it is.”

He made a face like an affronted fish.

“Don’t make that face at me. You’re mooning. It’s obvious. You pick at your soulmark every other hour, yes I have counted, and you sigh at the ceiling or the ocean before burying yourself in your vodka.”

Jaskier’s hand paused in its usual rub over his arm. “...I don’t see your point.”

“My point is you’re using our affair and this town as an escape. And a poor one at that. You sigh and scrub at that damn mark of yours and if a Witcher is spotted anywhere near you hide in my back room for a day and pretend you’re ‘composing’.”

He began to splutter again.

“Yes, I know it’s a witcher. I’m not simple. You need to get your lazy, pining ass out of my bed and back out on your path to find him. You won’t be satisfied wherever you go if you do not.”

“Well, see...and there is the rub. I have found him. I found him well over 20 years ago but he’s firmly of the belief that I am the cause of all the worst things in his life…”

“Well, I can see why…” She muttered.

“Rude! ... And he summarily smote me from his life and shall never seek out my glorious company again!”

Hanna looked at him fiercely. Her eyes all but glowed in their intensity. She reached out and put her hand over where his mark lay, just above his elbow in the crook of his left arm. “You think this. But I can tell you for certain you are wrong. You’ve yet to meet the Witcher who holds the other half of your mark.”

Jaskier blinked, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and blinked again.

“What?” He croaked. 

She sighed and scooted closer. “By all the gods you are a simpleton and annoying to boot. You. Haven’t. Met. Them. Yet. Should I repeat it slower, or did you hear me that time?”

He jerked out of her grasp angrily and glowered, turning a little red in the process.

“I heard you! But it’s absurd. Geralt is the one who wears a medallion that matches my mark. I’ve been attracted to him for decades. I think I would know my own soulmate after that long in their company, thank you very much!” At this point he was nearly yelling, but his voice was going shrill with nerves.

It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Sure… Geralt had mentioned he wasn’t the only Witcher of his school, but surely the medallion was unique? His entire world knowledge was about to be upended otherwise. He wasn’t entirely certain he was intoxicated enough to deal with that.

Hanna simply looked at him. 

His brain veered off course entirely, attempting to save itself from an ensuing panic attack.

“My dear, whether I have or have not spent most of my life with a grumpy bastard who matched my mark, why would I leave the lovely existence I have here? The tavern loves my random performances, the local cuisine is….divine… and your company is certainly the highlight of my days.”

“You misunderstand me entirely. You’re overstaying whatever welcome you have here by carousing and being a lovesick nuisance. I suggest you consider your plans to head back out on your journey within the next week. In fact, in honor of the actually fun times we have had so far, I will even help you prepare supplies for your journey.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“I’m nudging. Don’t make me actually kick you out. You won’t enjoy it.”

“You say that now… but how about I do that lovely thing with my tongue you enjoy so much as a means to distract you from it all, hmm?”

Hanna blushes bright red, suitably distracted for at least the next 15 minutes.

~


	2. A Swelling Rage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW carried over for nonsensical alcohol abuse.

As it turned out, Hanna ended up being a mixture of distracted and increasingly annoyed for the next two weeks. She came into her front room one day, where she ran her herbalist business from, and found Jaskier insensible off of her last batch of distilled alcohol. By all the gods, damn this bard, she  _ needed _ that!

“ _ JASKIER! _ ”

He lurched sideways.

“Ehh??”

“You absolute  _ Fuckwit! _ Why in all the gods are you  _ drunk off my last batch of spirits?! _ ”

He swiveled his eyes in a drunken manner from where he was holding an empty bottle and back over towards a very angry Hanna.

“Holt kicked me out the pub!”

“Probably for a reason! Damnit, Jaskier!”

His crumbling awareness latched onto those last two words like sad, depressed glue. He’d heard them so many times. But in a lower register. Could he do nothing right?

“That was the last of my stock! I need those for potions and remedies! I can’t get more until I can get more grain from market day!”

Her voice was reaching new levels of disappointment that Jaskier was yet even more familiar with.

“And then I come in here and find you incensed on my floor like the worst sort of parasite!  _ Jaskier, I have had enough! I told you to leave, now you give me no choice!” _

Her eyes had taken on a unique green hue as she became progressively angrier. Something sparked in the back of Jaskier’s drunk brain that something unpleasant was about to befall him. 

“If you won’t move your own sorry ass out of my life and onto your proper path then I suspect  _ I will have to force you myself. _ ”

Her voice swirled around him, causing a light headed feeling of deja vu to spark up. Magic. He’d certainly been around powerfully angry women before and this was not going to end well. He raised his hands in a placating manner, trying to will himself sober and look for a proper escape route. 

“ _ Julian Pankratz. From this day, until you find and accept your fated love, you will take the form of that which your true soul most trusts in this world.” _

Something ached deep within Jaskier’s bones, a burning sensation that he could not pinpoint the origin of. The witch’s words crashed over him like a wave, causing him to drop the bottle and put his hands over his ears, clenching his eyes closed tightly against the sensory onslaught. Gods, when had he given her his full name? He didn’t remember that.

That was his last coherent thought before everything went black and he passed out entirely.

~

When he came to, everything blurred into focus in a very unique way. The room seemed wider and larger in a way, and he could nearly see behind him. He closed his eyes and groaned.

Or… he tried to groan.

It came out as a weird noise that almost sounded like a bleat. That wasn’t a normal human noise. He opened his eyes again and tried to move.

This wasn’t normal human anything! His head was heavier than usual and as he swayed upright he noticed he had more than the usual amount of legs. He toppled right back down to the ground with a crash. 

Whatever was making his head heavier had smashed into the wall and made a loud bang. 

Hanna came striding in from another room, drying her hands on a rag. She also seemed out of proportion, taller and more terrifying.

“Ah… you’re awake.”

He made another noise that was particularly inhuman as he tried to right himself again.

“Yes… well… In my defense, you drank all of my potion alcohol and were making a right nuisance of yourself. I was mad and my powers don’t always cooperate when I get in that sort of way…It could have gone much worse.”

He… well, to be honest with himself, he bleated again at her. Loudly.

“Hush! You brought this on yourself. And you’re to be out of my house and out of this village as soon as you have your legs beneath you. I’m washing my hands of all this nonsense.”

He flopped towards her, all of his four legs refusing to listen to the others.

“Though, as a favor to the odd friendship we have kindled, and the interesting times we have had in bed, I will keep your precious lute and belongings safe in a chest in the back room. You may return and retrieve them once you have regained your human form.”

Well that certainly answered a very large looming question that he had. He tried to angle his head down to see what the rest of him was up to and a heavy weight on his head brought his entire self forward onto the floor. What in the hells?

“Oh, yeah the horns might take a bit to get used to. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Horns?? What?

Jaskier finally managed to stumble himself up into a standing position and moved towards Hanna. She was clearly three feet taller than she had been before. What the fuck?

“You’re a goat, Jaskier. A rather cute one. Though you stick out. Your eyes are decidedly un-goatlike. They’re kind of a blue-ish green color. Usually goat eyes are yellow. Still. I’ve seen stranger things.”

He made a variety of interesting noises in her direction. 

“Bleat all you want. You’re still leaving. I may be mildly sorry you’re in this awkward form, but also… I’m not at all. You did this to yourself. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

And with that she swept from the room. 

Jaskier was left to try and come to terms with his new diminutive form and lot in life. Gods damned witches, mages, and anyone magically inclined. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huehuehuehue.
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Anyways I am having too much fun with this and am far into editing chapter four so like... have this lol.


	3. To the Brink

Life was not easy as a bumbling prey animal. Not in the slightest. And he found the part of his brain responsible for all his survival instincts, kicked into overdrive so often that he frequently forgot completely where he was. 

He’d be munching on some tasty vegetables in what seemed to be a farm plot when suddenly he was being chased with a pitchfork. His human-ish thoughts had returned to him sometime later when he was firmly halfway up a hill and no clue at all where he had been or had ended up.

As the weeks went by, the word human started to slip from his tenuous mental grasp. 

His name was Jaskier. He liked to sing. He once had brown hair and two legs and entertained people tremendously. He hadn’t always been the way he was now. And that was where his memories stopped.

So focused on getting to the next potential food source, his more animal side had firmly pushed all the unnecessary information out of the way to focus on putting one hoof in front of the other and finding something to eat. His stomach was often grumpy from not getting what it decided was the proper amount of nutrition. 

His name was Jaskier. He liked to sing. He once had brown hair and two legs…

A storm was blowing in. Something in him just knew it. He narrowed his eyes and scanned his surroundings for somewhere safe, warm, and with any luck...some nearby decent plantlife. There. Just off in the distance, the telltale opening of a small cave. He kicked his little hooves in the dirt and took off in that direction. 

Prepare. He needed to prepare. Provisions. Oh, a fire would be lovely… if only he still had hands. The mouth of the cave was set into a small hill. A large tree grew directly above and two of it’s larger roots braced either side of the opening. Moss grew all around. If he could have, Jaskier would have sighed in relief. 

A quick once over of the inside of the cave proved it to be shallow but empty. With shelter out of the way, he set back out on a mission into the nearby foliage. It took several trips but he managed to gather and tuck away what nearly looked like two small bushes worth of plants, late season berries and roots. He settled in next to his little stockpile, tucking his legs under him and resting his chin on the cave floor. As his eyes closed, he repeated again his mental mantra.

His name was Jaskier. He liked to sing. He once had brown hair and two legs… and he would survive this.

~

The small hairs on the back of Eskel’s neck stood on end, causing him to swivel his head off towards the south. Great. A storm. Just what he needed. He quickly scanned the nearby area for any decent spot to squirrel himself away. He was firmly between two towns and natural cover was going to be all he got. 

  
There. A small cave. That’ll do for now. He stepped off the road and heading into the brush. One night in a cave wouldn’t kill him, and he was heading for better places soon enough. The wind picked up harshly, urging him to move a little faster in hopes of staying dry. 

He was two weeks out from Kaer Morhen, calling his season early this year for lack of proper contracts and coin. The locals had growled at him in the last town and kicked him out, so he felt it was about the right time to cut his losses and retreat for a while. Besides… it was high time he went back to see his sweet Lil Bleater, cozy and safe up in the keep’s stableyard. 

His sweet goat was firmly on his mind as he stepped inside the cave, looking about carefully for any unknowing inhabitants. It was maybe ten feet deep at most. There was a decent sized pile of brush and local vegetation close to the back of the small area. Something had clearly been here recently and drug all that in with it. With careful steps, he crept closer to see if the ‘something’ was still here.

A small fuzzy lump, curled in on itself to keep warm, was laying right up against the pile. It moved slightly as it breathed so it was clearly still alive. Eskel tilted his head slightly and crouched down.

“Ksst.” He made a small noise to try and wake the creature without startling it too much. This was the best place to hide at the moment and he would rather not share it with an angry animal he pissed off just by existing. 

The lump moved slightly and snuffled about in its sleep. A head lifted slightly showing off two large horns rising from its head and swooping down into an elegant curl against the back of its head. A goat, clearly, and one of smaller stature than the typical wild goats of the area. Clearly this one was an escaped farm animal. Eskel tilted his head and repeated the noise as the animal came more into itself. 

The goat blinked and swiveled its sleepy head over towards the man. A pair of startling blue goat eyes latched onto his and it made a small bleat of mild distress. Eskel sat himself fully down and put his hands up and his shoulders back.. 

“Hush, hush now. You’re safe.” He murmured in as soft a voice as he could manage. Poor thing looked cold and malnourished and quite out of sorts. His eyes cut back over to the pile of vegetation and realized the goat had hoarded a fair amount of food before hiding away. Huh… odd. Goats were grazers and while some of his favorite creatures… not usually the smartest. He supposed survival overrode that. 

The goat shuffled itself closer to its pile of food and bleated weakly at him again. He looked about and saw no source of water. Slowly and carefully, he pulled his dagger from his side and used the hilt to grind a divot into the ground a few feet away. He pulled his waterskin out and filled the small hole with what he had, then gestured at the goat and then went about building a fire space a bit further away. 

“Drink up, little one.” 

The goat eyed him for a moment before unfurling from his position on the ground and moving to lap up what water was offered. Eskel smiled softly to himself as he continued to set his fire, watching from the corner of his eye as the goat stumbled back towards its little food stache. A tenuous peace struck between the two. … For now.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They meet! Ta dah lol
> 
> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> I love all these lovely comments. <3


	4. I'm Clean

~

The truce struck within the cave lasted as the storm eased out and the unlikely pair moved out back into the wild. 

Something about the mountain of a man before him made Jaskier want to follow. He’d given him water and watched over him in the cave. He hadn’t stolen his food or attempted to make him  _ into _ food. These were all positives. And something about him tugged at something deep down. 

He trusted him. Even if he didn’t know him.

And so, Jaskier the Goat trudged after the big bad Witcher as he moved towards the next township. 

Eskel, for his part, was concerned if acquiring goats was going to be his new thing. He was already moving himself in the direction of Kaer Morhen to get back to his existing Attitude Child, and now he was bringing another?

He hoped Lil Bleater got along with the new goat. He hoped she didn’t try to eat him.

He also figured he needed to name the creature soon if it was going to continue to follow him so closely. 

~

They made camp in a grove of trees not far from the Kaedwen border, with Eskel eyeing the way the goat shifted around to make a cozy spot for himself. Those slightly off-putting blue eyes settled on him once the goat was still and bleated at him before resting its head. 

“You’re an odd one. Still going to follow me come morning?”

The goat grumbled at him.

“Mm. Yes. I suppose you are. Well…” Eskel sighed and shifted to lay flat on his bedroll, “If you intend to follow me all the way to Kaer Morhen, you’ll need a name. I already have one goat… her name is Lil Bleater… I hope you’ll like her. But… what to name you?”

The goat got up and wandered over to his side, plopping down next to him and curling up like an affectionate lap dog. Huhn…

“Blue? For your eyes.”

The goat bit him on the elbow

“Ow! Ugh… maybe I should name you after my little brother instead.”

The goat stared him down. He could have sworn there was a face being made at him… somehow. 

“Little Lamb. For Lambert… my brother. He’s a biter too.”

The goat made a huffing noise as it tossed its head and then bleated loudly at him before settling back down.

“Yeah, no that is perfect. Gives you a name and pisses Lambert off at the same time. I’ll point him out to you when we get to the keep. Do me a favor and bite him on the ass, if you could?”

The goat did not respond.

~

Jaskier the Goat was having a Time of it all… He had nearly frozen to death in a cave and was still struggling to keep his personal mantra up...

His name was Jaskier. He used to have two legs. … and there it stopped now.

But then this strange man had come along with his swords, and his gruff voice, and been so kind to him… and something in all of that sparked a part of his desperate human brain. He needed to follow. He must.

Even if the brute called him weird names and didn’t let him chew on his extra leather. 

Still… everytime he watched the man do something for him, his joints tingled. He’d happily deal with tingly joints and the weird names if it meant he could follow this man. He meant safety, and food, and his running monologue was slowly improving over the weeks...

His name was Jaskier. He used to have two legs, floppy brown hair ... and he loves music more than anything.

And Eskel seemed to enjoy music too. He hummed near constantly, a tune that sparked that human part of his brain to keep chugging away to bring back his memories, and sometimes sang soft folk tunes when they were in the wild. He brushed his coat, fed him whatever they came across and let him sleep beside him. Truly, things could not be better for a strange two-leg trapped in the body of a four-leg.

He continued to saunter happily after Eskel all the way up a nasty path towards an imposing mountain, no worries in his strange little head.

~

“Ho! Asshole!”

Lambert yelled from the top of the keep walls as he spied Eskel heading towards the gate, yet another goat in tow. 

The other witcher looked up at his call and lifted a hand in a crude return greeting. Lambert cackled and vaulted down to open up the gates for his brother.

“You’re here early...ish.”

Eskel shook himself as he stepped through the gates and let the feeling of home wash over him. “I couldn’t let Lil Bleater languish without me. But then… you’re here early too. Everything alright?”

Lambert waved his hand dismissively. “Friend of mine got hurt. Brought them here to rest up. Asshole tried to die on me. I wasn’t having any of it. I’m more stubborn than the reaper.” He grinned, showing all his teeth.

Eskel just smirked and shook his head, then waved his hand near his hip and pointed back at Lambert. “That’s Lambert. Get ‘im.”

Lambert had just enough time to be horrendously confused before the goat he had completely forgotten about bounded out from behind Eskel and proceeded to prompt bite him on the rear. He yelled and spun away. The goat simply stood there and… looked smug? Can goats look smug?

“What the fucking fuck, Eskel??”

“This is Little Lamb. I named him after you.” Eskel grinned.

“Oh you absolute  _ Bastard.”  _

“You love it.”

Lambert threw his hands up and pointed over towards the stables. “Put the devil animal with your other devil animal and let them eat each other.”

Eskel laughed low and jerked his head at the goat, indicating to follow. As the pair walked away, Lambert crossed his arms and shouted back at him,

“Oh, and Geralt’s back too. With a bit of a… surprise.”

Eskel rolled his eyes and kept walking. At this point in his life, he would be impressed if Geralt could ever truly surprise him again. 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaugh, the plot bunnies are running away with me.
> 
> I still don't have a set chapter count, but I promise it won't be tooooo crazy?
> 
> Thanks for reading and thank you for the comments! The love keeps me going :)


	5. Where was My Fault?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a step back to give more info from Jaskier's perspective.   
> And a bit longer than the rest. :D

Jaskier the Goat was day by day slowly morphing back into Jaskier the Human, at least mentally. Eskel was the primary source of this.

Each day, he offered nothing but kindness and soft songs, and pets. And Jaskier’s constant mantra was piecing more and more of his old life back together. The music most of all. 

One of the songs Eskel hummed when he wasn’t thinking about it was clearly part of his past. He was certain of that. His improving brain power also helpfully supplied that this man was a Witcher, and that Witchers could be trusted. That part he wasn’t entirely understanding of, but it was a very clear feeling so he didn’t dig into that memory much. It wasn’t important. 

His name was Jaskier. He had previously been much like the man before him, walking tall and proud on two legs while singing and enjoying the countryside. He loved music more than anything. A Witcher had been an important part of his previous life, but any prodding of that memory brought discomfort, so he focused instead on other fun bits of information.

Like the interesting fact that he understands campfires, and knew how to set and break camp, even if he couldn’t do it with his little hooves at the moment. He recognized the towns they moved through, and as they got closer to their destination Eskel became more talkative and happier to cuddle him through the night, closer than the previous sleeping arrangements. He even tried humming along once, but was severely hampered by his goat form’s limited vocal range. What came out was a series of odd bleating whines that had Eskel looking him over for injuries. Not really what he was going for. 

He also knew that Eskel had another goat that was very important to him, as well as two brothers and he was very excited to meet them all soon. Maybe with that many Witchers in one place, someone might notice that he was more than just a Goat and help him recover whatever it was he had lost. He had watched Eskel fight once or twice and the man certainly seemed to have some sort of powerful magical abilities. Happily trotting after the man was bound to help him one way or the other. 

And so, he was more than happy to follow Eskel’s lead into the crumbling Witcher keep and nibble directly at the person he had been falsely named after. Soon, he hoped, the improvement of his memories might also bring an opportunity to dispel some of the misconceptions currently between the two.

But then Lambert had yelled a name out towards them and his entire world had shifted. It meant something to him. It made something hurt deep in his ribcage that wouldn’t dislodge the entire walk towards the stables. 

As Eskel opened the gates, another goat-like blur streaked out and directly into his chest. The man grunted as the breath was smashed out of him and instinctively put his arms around the creature.

“Hey, Bleats… I missed you too.”

Jaskier stood and stared. This was a goat. A  _ real  _ goat. And suddenly it clicked very hard in his brain that he did not belong in any specific category… and he was about to have a mild panic attack about it before the other goat noticed his presence and tackled him as well. 

Laying in a leggy heap, unsure of where to put his hooves, Jaskier stared at Lil Bleater as she stared back. She bleated. Jaskier screamed and tried to run away. 

Eskel looked on in bafflement. Lambert fell over laughing. 

Jaskier got as far as a few feet before what looked to be an entrance to the inside before  _ yet another person _ put themselves directly in his space and spread their arms.

“Whoah!” The new voice exclaimed, deep and gravely in a way that made the human panic fluttering in him explode even further.

Suddenly, and Jaskier found this very very rude, his limbs simply ceased taking input from his brain, locked up, and made him fall straight over on his side, stiff as a board.

Eskel stomped over and stared at the goat doing an excellent impression of a dead creature.

“What the absolute fuck?”

“Control your goats, Eskel. He almost got inside.”

Eskel glowered at the other man. “He’s perfectly well-behaved, Geralt, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world. And now you broke him. I’ve never seen a full grown goat do that…”

Jaskier wiggled his legs a little but they barely responded. Lil Bleater wandered over and sniffed at him, decided it was love at first nibble, and promptly sat on him. 

Lambert, who had just recovered from his laughing fit, burst into giggles again. “Made a friend!”

Eskel rolled his eyes. 

~

After the initial trauma of their arrival, namely Jaskier’s loss of his faculties, and formal introduction to the other goat who had clearly gotten it into her head that he was her new boyfriend, life settled in.

For the most part…

First off, there was an amazingly impressive row between Eskel and Geralt when a blonde waif of a teenager was introduced, with quite a bit of rage on Eskel’s part and many mentions of the name ‘ Deirdre’ that Jaskier just couldn’t parse. It seemed to die down shortly after an outburst from the girl and many hugs and apologies from both of the men. 

Anytime he looked at Geralt something deep within him seized and hurt, and he was dealing with it by simply staring endlessly at the man, and prodding mentally at that odd twinge while simultaneously attempting to burrow himself in Eskel’s side. 

“There’s something wrong with your goat, Eskel.” Geralt whispered during one of these exact staring contests. 

“Little Lamb? Well… You know what, I suppose there must be…” Eskel frowned at Geralt and put one hand on his chin, while the other continued to try and soothe said goat in his lap. There had been many small instances of decidedly ungoatlike behavior from the creature since he had met him, and he couldn’t quite get all the puzzle pieces to click. “He was… odd from the start.”

Geralt raised a brow at him and crossed his arms. “You’re letting him lay in your lap and you’re admitting there’s something wrong with him?”

“Yeah, well… he may be weird, but he’s also very sweet. Kept me company the whole way here from Redania. Hoards food like a hibernating creature, stares at you like he knows what you’re saying, but other than that… nothing that strange. And certainly nothing malicious. Hasn’t even gone for my saddlebags, except to gnaw on the straps.”

Lambert sauntered in from a side hall. “Maybe he’s cursed.”

Geralt and Eskel just looked at him.

Jaskier perked his head up and considered that. It sounded right. Was it right? He’d been a goat at this point for what was at least a year. 

“Where  _ exactly  _ did you say you picked him up again?”

“In a cave in Redania, just outside Varlburg. I don’t know where he was before that. Looked malnourished and lost, but he’d found himself a little hole and drug an entire pile of greens to eat in with him. Goats are grazers by nature… they don’t hoard.”

“Okay, so… Redania… That’s.. Not a lot to go off of.” Eskel simply shrugged. It wasn’t like he had any additional information. 

Lambert picked up the closest ale to him and took a swig. “Isn’t the witch gonna be here in a week? We can just ask her to look at him.”

Geralt opened his mouth, then promptly closed it.

“Oh… Yeah… She is.”

Eskel scratched at a particularly itchy spot on his goat’s horns, making him push his head further into his fingers. “I swear, Lambert.. Sometimes I am certain you’re hiding your intelligence in a thin veil of absolute idiot. We’ll ask Yennefer then. As long as she doesn’t hurt him.”

Something unpleasant tingled in Jaskier’s legs at this conversation.

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)
> 
> I love you all. Thank you for the comments and kudos. They brighten my day and keep me writing this nonsensical crack, lol. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Please do leave a comment or a kudos if you had a good time. I will be updating more frequently as I have at least the next four chapters fully done, and it helps to keep me writing if I send off the start of it all first. ;) 
> 
> All my love!


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